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Thursday, 24 October 2013

The Alchemist's Apprentice

Auren's fear vanished at once as she realised what had happened. She was not a cat, but she wasn’t much larger than one. And she was getting even smaller by the second.
Valtiori towered above her, godlike in his sudden new stature. He was smiling. She clutched at the fabric of her pooling dress, trying to cover herself. But the fabric was too heavy to lift. Her underthings had slipped away as well, too large to fit her tiny frame. She peered up at her master, feeling more helpless and at his mercy than ever before. She pressed her legs together, sending a hot little pulse through her sex.
Valtiori crouched down and held out his hand. She struggled free of the pile of clothing and climbed into his palm, trying in vain to shield her nakedness. She wrapped her arms around his thumb as he lifted her up off the floor. Her stomach swooped at the dizzying sensation. He set her on the table and stood back to admire her.
‘Put your hands at your sides,’ he said. ‘Don’t try to cover yourself.’
A hot blush burned her face and she averted her eyes. But she did as she was told, forcing her trembling arms down by her sides. She felt her nipples stiffen in the open air, as though tightening under his scrutiny. It was all she could do to stand there, tiny and helpless and exposed, as he peered down at her as he might a captured butterfly.
He picked up a magnifying glass and held it above her. It was the size of a cartwheel. She cowered for a moment before he sharply told her to be still. Then, in a cool and dispassionate tone he instructed her to turn this way and that, to raise her arms and lower them again, to arch her back and bend in different postures. She was exactly the same as she had been before, only much, much smaller. And utterly helpless.
Valtiori laid the glass aside and made some notation in his journal. She watched, mesmerised, as the feathery tail of the quill waved in the air high above her, like a tree in the breeze. He caught her fascinated gaze and a cryptic smile spread across his features. Then he lowered the feather to her and brushed it across her naked skin.

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About Me

Rose de Fer sees the sensual in the strange and she loves the view from the edge. She lives in England with her husband, who feeds her wine and raw meat and keeps the chains tight when the moon is full.